


Angel Breakout

by Classic Rock Chick (thewrittenfae)



Series: Angels for us All [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel'Jo, F/M, Gen, Slave Trade, Violence, Wings, wing'porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:50:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2120847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewrittenfae/pseuds/Classic%20Rock%20Chick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in a world where after the angels were expelled from Heaven, humans started to sell and brand - binding them to their owners - them, Dean finds someone he didn't expect to find, especially not with wings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel Breakout

Dean shifted and moved down the path, ignoring the murmurs and chatter as he passed people. Ever since heaven had closed and the angels had fallen people had found a way to profit from it. It disgusted him, truthfully, but one hunter in a sea of stupidity and guns couldn’t do a whole hell of a lot. Especially when the humans were getting smart enough to find ways to trap and brand angels. 

He didn’t normally frequent the markets, he didn’t want to see what had become of them – reduced to cages and chains waiting for sale – and he especially didn’t usually frequent the darker markets that sold specialty angels. The crowd at the darker markets were looking for angels that were still fairly whole, all the better to break, or so he’d heard. But this market, well he’d heard whispers and it was enough of a pull to bring him out. 

Ear to the ground, he’d needed to keep it there while he looked for a couple people. Though, his ear was always to the ground, always searching and hoping even before the fall. But that was a different matter entirely. One that he shoved down and hadn’t let even Sam know he’d been holding onto. Today it was about what the whispers he’d heard had said.

Wings.

She sat in a cage, back straight, and to the crowd, stubborn radiating from her very core. Dean could see it in the way she held herself, a fighter. Blonde hair tumbled down her back, free and matted, the color vibrant against the white feathered wings. Rare. It was rare to find an angel that still had wings at all; most had theirs burned up when they fell after being exiled. Though, it wasn’t so much the wings that had his breath still in his lungs. 

“You didn’t fall.” His words were quiet but clear as he watched her head tilt at the sound of his voice. There was no need for her to even turn around for Dean to know who was sitting in front of him. “How?” 

Her wings ruffled, and it gave him the impression of a shrug. Dirt marred the white, especially where they met her back, and the skin was pink and irritated, but her clothes were still fairly intact; clean compared to the rags some of the others wore. “Was meant to guide, they figured any other would have a hard time…” 

Dean’s eyes were already skimming her cage, noting where the marks where that kept her contained; and how to get rid of them in order to free her. He wasn’t sure he had enough to buy her, just those wings along would fetch a pretty penny, let along how beautiful she was. “Guide, sweetheart? They…made you a guardian angel. That’s… fitting.” 

“Not just any guardian angel.” Jo smiled, it was faint and stressed but there for him. “Your guardian angel. They figured if anyone could get through that thick skull of yours, it’d be me.” 

Resting a hand on the bars, Dean chuckled quietly. “They’d probably be right.” His knuckles turned white as he squeezed the metal, wishing he had the sheer strength to just rip her prison open. “I’ll get you out of here.” 

She turned her body a little, wings folding behind her. “They’re planning to sell me tomorrow, as their main event.” 

Dean’s arm strained, muscle cording as his eyes darkened at both the information and the bitterness in her tone. “Then tonight.” He lowered his voice as a small crowd came to gawk and Jo and her wings. “I promise,” he all but whispered.

Her wings ruffled at his promise and he thought he caught a glimpse of color among the feathers. “I trust you.” Jo didn’t so much speak the words but more they echoed through his head. 

No words answered, but he gave the barest of nods before moving away from her cage. He didn’t want someone noticing that they were talking, at least not too much, didn’t need any red flags raised before he broke the seals around her. If she was their main event, he knew they’d have security around her to start with, and that would be a problem. All of it though, floated through his head as he looked around, tried to blend in by stopping here or there at pretty slips of angels that he knew would be sold as slaves of the worst kind. 

* * * * *

The grounds were quiet by the time Dean returned, a silent shadow along the cages – more than he liked of which were now empty after the day’s sales. He’d double checked before he’d left earlier, wanting to make sure that Jo’s sale was in fact tomorrow and he’d been relieved to know she was right. From the look of the flyers, they were making a huge deal out of being able to sell someone with their wings intact, and with luck and some good old Winchester stubberness, they’d be pissed off and sorely disappointed come morning. He’d never let her be sold, not while there was breath in his lungs. 

Part of him was surprised how little security through the grounds he’d run into. So far it was just the two men that had been standing guard at the entrance, who were now unconscious in the brush nearby. When he caught sight of Jo’s prison, it made a little more sense though, and he swore and dipped behind something at the sight of three men with semi-automatic weapons. 

Creeping to the side, Dean lifted a nice sized rock and tossed it just off from where he was. All three men jumping at the sound had Dean smirk a little, still jumping around the angels he might be able to work with. 

The biggest of the three nodded to one. “Go see what that was.” 

“Me? But…what if one’a’em escaped? Can’t they like burn me up?” The gun shifted nervously in his hand. “Can’t Tom do it?”

Tome, of Dean was sure, went white at the suggestion and shook his head. “Floyd pointed at you! Means y’go!”

The smile from Floyd was anything but nice in the quiet night and the only sound was the soft rustling of Jo’s wings behind them. When he finally spoke, his words were slow, not because he was slow but because they held a finely contained anger. “Ya don’’t go check it out, I’ll shoot ya right here and find bet’er help t’morrow.” 

Growing impatient, Dean threw another rock. He wanted to get Jo out already, make sure she was safe. And if they hadn’t held those semi-automatics, he’d probably have just shot them by now. Tension in his shoulders eased some when the man whose name he still didn’t know grumbled but finally headed toward Dean and the rocks he’d thrown. 

Heavy boots were quiet on the ground as Dean moved behind the man, careful to stay out of sight of the other two before his arm jerked around the man’s throat. Luckily, the man didn’t think to go for his gun; instead his hands went up to try and pry Dean’s arm from around his throat as all air and sound were blocked off from him. The man thrashed, but Dean didn’t let him get far and after enough time he slowly went limp and passed out. It’s only after that, after Dean is sure the man is out and not playing at it, that he’ll drag the man under a bush and head back to watch the two still by Jo’s cage. 

Floyd just looked angry and impatient, but Tom was already starting to look nervous. It had already taken too much time for the unnamed lackie to have returned with a laugh about it being nothing or a squirrel. But he wouldn’t be coming back, and Floyd jerked his head towards Dean. “Go check it out. Now!” 

Wings ruffled, nervous or impatient he couldn’t tell. After Dean telling her he was getting her out it should be obvious to her, at least, why the man hadn’t returned. That something was going down, that she’d be out soon. 

Dean waited, stalking up behind Tom. He was shorter and thinner than the first man, which meant Dean had a leg up on the strength, things went faster with him, easier, and it wasn’t long before Tom joined his buddy under the bushes. Slowly, Dean moved back over to see Floyd fidgeting just a little now, he could also see Jo was pacing behind the bars now. “New ya’d know what was up, Sweetheart.” The words were barely audible, just a breath from his mouth, but her head turned and she looked directly at him and nodded. 

Taking quiet breath, and praying this went as planned, Dean stepped out into the open with a confused look on his face. “Hey man, y’ know where the exit to this place is?” 

The automatic was gripped, but not raised as Floyd looked over at him and scowled. “What the hell are you doing here this late? We’re closed until tomorrow morning.” 

Dean stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and kicked the dirt on the ground a little, looking far more laid back than he was or felt. Even from here he could feel the tension from Jo, if he got himself shot there wasn’t a damn thing she’d be able to do about it. “Want’d see the chick with the wings, dude. Everyon’s talkin’ about it. An’ there was such a stupid crowd t’day I couldn’ get close.” Even after all these years, green eyes pulled off innocent and harmless too damn well for what he’d seen. “Thi’k y’ can le’me see’er before I hit the road, mister?” 

Somewhere in the back of his head, the idea that this would work rallied against his better judgment. It had said the guy wouldn’t consider giving Dean a chance, but he actually relaxed with a huff and glanced this way and that before nodding. “Make it quick, kid.” 

What was more surprising to Dean was that the man actually turned away from Dean as the hunter came up to Jo, giving him some privacy to gawk and admire what he’d never be able to own no doubt. Winking at Jo, Dean moved up behind the man and with a rock he’d picked and put in his pocket, lashed out to the back of the man’s skull. He crumbled to his knees with a low sound, and a second hit had him unconscious but not dead, he’d have a lot to explain and a migraine the size of Texas in the morning but he’d live. 

Without wasting any time, Dean moved over to the crumbled man to search him for keys. None though. “Looks like it’s the old fashion way, Sweetheart.” His lock picking kit came out and with slow precision and years of practice, and close to fifteen minutes of swearing, the pin clicked and the lock opened to let her out. Last plan would have bene to move around and scratch all the seals broken, but that would have taken longer than the lock picking had. His hand out to her, he smirked. “Let’s get you outta here, Jo.” Even as she took his hand, he scraped a stone over the seal at the entrance of the cage with a rock, breaking the one that would keep her contained inside. 

Jo’s hand tightened on his and she let him pull her out of the cell, wings folded back so they wouldn’t bend or get hurt from the smaller opening. “Thanks. We clear to get out?” She looked nervous, glancing around a little even as her wings stretched into the open air a little. 

It took a minute for the question to sink in, Dean watching those wings with a soft hum. “What? Yeah. Yeah. Guards at the entrance are sleeping like a log, but I don’t know about any patrols that might wander so we need’t hurry.” He didn’t give her much time to answer, instead his legs got moving and he pulled her gently along with him, keeping them moving and towards some of the shadows, weaving into a row with mostly empty cages that wouldn’t need a patrol as much. “Any way to pull those in, or make’em not visible?” 

Her head shook, “No… they made me drink this potion… said it’d last a few days, makes’em viewable t’people without my consent.” Jo’s voice was soft, but she did pull them in, tight to her back with a soft sound. “They’re jus’a little cramped from the cage,” she murmured. 

“You can stretch them once we get to the motel. Already got us a room, far end, corner of the building so no one will really see us goin’ in or out.” He’d planned well for this, for keeping her outta sight. Squeezing her hand, he offered her a soft smile. “I got you, Jo. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ happen to you again.” 

One of her wings stretched a little, sliding behind and around Dean a little as she settled closer to him. “I trust ya, Cowboy,” she murmured lightly. 

A shout from behind them had both take off and Dean lead her behind some bushes where the Impala was hiding. “Backseat so ya won’t hurt those wings, I think,” he whispered to her as he eased the door open for her. 

She doesn’t argue or say anything, just nods and folds them down carefully before slipping into the backseat. Because she can’t make them vanish right now, she’ll end up laying across the backseat, wings up and brushing the ceiling of the car. 

Dean closed the door soon as she was in, with only the softest of thumps, head tilted and ears straining to hear if they were followed. 

“They’re yelling about the two in the bushes. We should be able to get out of here before they come looking,” she offers from her stretched out spot. 

A glance at her, smile soft on his lips and only softening, has him see she’s tugged one of his shirts from the back in the back and is using it as a pillow best she can. He doesn’t argue how she knows that, just slides behind the wheel and starts the engine. “Wish I had a convertible right now so y’didn’t have t’be so cramped back there.” He doesn’t let talking get in the way of pulling out slowly, and driving a bit down the road before turning on his lights and hitting the gas. 

Jo chuckles softly, “I’m just happy I’m out now.” He can see in the rearview when her eyes close and she snuggles into his shirt. Something already tells him he won’t be getting that one back and he can’t say he’s upset about that notion. “Thank you. For finding me and breaking me out before I was branded to someone.” 

The radio is on but it’s low, so the only real sound is the rustling of her wings as they shift and try to get comfortable in the small car. “Always, Jo. I’ll always come for you. I’d always hoped… with how Sam and I were always coming back, that you’d be back too. That it would be just a matter of time.” 

“Difference was you and Sam were in Hell,” she murmurs sleepily. “Not meant t’be there. Were meant for Heaven, all the saving and work and sacrificin’ you two idiots do. Y’were supposed to come to me, eventually. Our families are up there, waitin’. But then y’needed a guardian, makin’ too many stupid decisions; they gave me wings, told me y’were my charge. I was already down here, lookin’ for your ever movin’ ass when the angels fell, which is why I still have my wings.” 

Dean hummed as he listened, too focused on getting to the motel to comment or argue. Though, he knew he’d needed help, had even thought that very need hard during the few down times. And he’s not sure he’d ever want another person to help him but her, not if he had a choice. It gave her back to him. “Can I ask y’something about your wings?”

They shifted, before folding down a little lower around her. “Of course. What d’ya wanna know?” 

“Why are they red where they meet your back?” He glanced back at her again, and if it weren’t for the fact that she was answering he’d almost think she was already asleep. 

Jo gave a soft hum, hand stretching over her shoulder, like if she tried hard enough she could reach where he was talking about. “Needs t’be cleaned. Dirt gets on’em and it hurts. Like sand in a wound. They wouldn’t let me clean’em well there… and I can’t reach the closer t’my back they get.” She sighed irritably and looked up, meeting green eyes in the rearview before he had to turn off for the motel. 

He nodded as he parked the car around the corner. As promised, they were on the far end from the main building, and just around the corner. There were only four rooms on this end, and it looked like they were the only ones using any of them tonight. “Any way I can help with that, maybe after you’ve slept some?” Slipping out of the impala, he opened the door by her head and offered her his hands to help her out. 

Taking his hands, shirt still gripped in one, she nodded as she carefully slipped from the car and onto her feet. “I would…really like it if you would. They’re really sensitive, which is why just a little dirt can irritate and hurt them.” 

“You can show me how after you’ve slept, and I can see about cleanin’ them while you eat tomorrow, Sweetheart.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to the room, ground floor and the curtains already drawn. The key is slipped out of his pocket and he opens the door, letting her into the room first.

“Forgot to mention y’needed two beds?” She glanced over at him as she moved into the center of the room and let her wings stretch again. 

His eyes slipped up to watch them brush the ceiling as he kicked the door shut behind them. Hands locked them in without needing to glance over, because he couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Maybe part’a me needs ya curled up with me t’make sure yer real and y’aren’t goin’ anywhere.” 

She chuckled softly, it still held stress, pain, but it was a start. “Yer lucky I don’t mind. Now, int’the bathroom so I can change, Cowboy.” 

There’s no argument, he just moves past her with only a pause to kiss her on the cheek and tell her he’s glad she’s back before he’s moving into the bathroom as commanded. He’ll get himself ready for bed as best he can considering everything is out in the car save for the shirt she stole from his back, but he’ll strip down to his boxers before coming out when she beckons softly. 

He’s not sure how she managed it with the wings, but she’s in his shirt, and it only comes down to her thighs. Something he can’t help but stare at some as he moves over to her, hand sliding around her waist so he could draw her into a hug. 

Jo stills when he pulls her to him, but it’s only for a second and then she’s hugging him back tightly, even her wings wrapping around them both, cocooning them into a blanket of comfort and warmth. “Thank you,” is all she murmurs as she draws him back towards the bed. 

“Thank you, Jo.” He steals a chaste kiss, just the softest brush of lips against hers before he’s pulling the covers back and settling in bed. “Come on, I promise t’be a gentleman. Least for now,” he teases softly.

Chuckling again, Jo crawled into bed and settled with her head on his chest. Once the blankets were drawn up around them she lowered her wings over them both like a feathered blanket. “Just be careful of the wings,” she murmurs as her face finds his throat and she burrows it there. 

Dean’s hand slides into her hair, just stroking the blonde locks. They need to be washed, but he doesn’t mind the dirt because it’s Jo and she’s here. And he refuses to let her get away again. “I promise, I will.” He lets his eyes close, but it’s not until her breathing evens out that he lets himself begin to drift as well. Ever vigilant and aware, and ever with the gun already settled under the pillow. Just in case. But thankfully no one saw them slip into the motel, so they’ll be able to sleep peacefully until morning comes.


End file.
